Subject 96
by TheWammy'sHouseReject
Summary: The experiment is a failure.
1. Chapter 1

Yo! Wammy's House Reject here with another Akatsuki fanfic ;) This will be a multi-chaptered fic featuring Deidara. Ideas and concrit are welcome. Reviews will be printed, framed, and put on my wall to prove to my parents that people LIKE my writing :D

The child thrashed and screamed, fighting his captors with all the might in his tiny body. His hands clenched into tiny, weak, (laughable) fists as he tried to fight the men off. They were stronger than him, however, and They soon had him defeated.

They strapped him down, ignoring his cries and pleas for mercy. Setting to work with scalpels and knives, They dug into his tender flesh, disregarding his screams of pain. The boy shrieked and struggled, then began whimpering in agony as his flesh peeled away.

His captors poked around inside him, moving around internal organs as if searching for something.

(They're always searching for something. The boy sometimes wonders what They're looking for when They see fit to torture him [that's really all it is: torture.] or if they'll ever find it.)

It hurt. It hurt so badly that he wanted nothing more than to die. It felt like his insides had been set on fire, burning with unquenchable flames.

(Any other child would cry for his mother: but he has never had a mother to cry _for._)

"Stop…please…stop it…"

(A quiet, hoarse, broken voice. A voice that shouldn't belong to a child.)

Nobody heard.

"Please…"

Nobody cared.

(Just ignore it. Try to think of somewhere else, and the pain might go away.

He doesn't have anywhere else to think of.)

It seemed like ages before They closed him up and bandaged the gaping wounds.

(They don't want him to die, despite all the pain They put him through. He's of more use to Them alive.)

The boy didn't cry. He wouldn't give them that kind of pleasure. The people who did this to him _loved _to see him cry, calling him 'responsive' or 'lively.' The child didn't know what any of that meant. Neither did he care.

He just wanted the pain to stop.


	2. Waking Up

One of the scientists slices the boy's arm open, from the inside of his wrist to the inside of his elbow. There is a sickening squishing noise as muscle peels away from flesh- peels away from bone.

The others state their approval. "Perfect," they marvel.

"Flawless."

"Beautiful…the finest of the bunch…"

The boy tries to distract himself by looking around the room, looking at the rows of empty cages surrounding the laboratory.

Once, they had all been full- fullof ninety-nine other boys and girls. (At least, that's what he heard.) But they all died off. Some went quickly. Some went slowly. Eventually, he was the only one left.

Him. Subject Ninety-six.

He cannot distract himself anymore-the pain comes back to him, even worse than before. He screams, even though his throat is torn, foamy blood gargling out of his mouth.

_**Kill me…Kill me…**_

~oOo~

Deidara flew upright, gasping for air, his bright blue eyes alive with panic. A cold sweat drenched him, fusing his skin to his clothing and gluing his straw-blond hair to his neck and forehead.

_That dream again…_

He strained to look around in the darkness of the room, forcing himself to take slow, even breaths.

_Just a dream. Just a dream…_

He got up off his futon, crossed the room and threw back his curtains, blinking in the light of the rising sun.

(Dawn- his favorite time of day.)

A knock at his door.

"Deidara, sweetheart." Akatsuchi, the Tsuchikage's wife. "It's time to get up."

She called him 'sweetheart.' That only meant one thing.

He'd been screaming in his sleep.

Again.

He grabbed his towel and went to take a shower to wash the sweat away. He dressed and brushed his long hair, humming a little; the hot water had done wonders for his spirits.

He skidded into the kitchen, his trademark smile painted on his face.

"Morning, Aka-baa," he said. Akane looked at him with her tired eyes.

"Good morning, Deidara." The look on her face says what she does not.

"Baa-chan, I'm fine," he assured her. "It's just that stupid nightmare. I can deal."

Akatsuchi looked for a long time at her ten year old, adoptee grandson- he was already handsome-she could only guess what he'd look like as an adult.

But he was troubled. Vile creatures haunted his mind- dark and dangerous creatures. Too often, the house was filled with his awful cries, pleading with invisible attackers. But the worst part was that no one could wake him- or console him. It was as if she was trapped in a nightmare as well.

(She saw past Deidara's smile and shallow display of happiness.)

"I'm fine, Baa-chan," Deidara repeated. "Where's old man Tsuchikage?"

"He went to his office- he told me to tell you you're gonna get buried six feet under if you forget to train again."

Deidara grinned.

"Not on your life, Aka-baa."

Deidara snagged a piece of toast and ran out the door to the training grounds.

He honestly _did_ try to train- he just got bored. He ended up shaping clay birds with his mouth in the shade of a tree.


End file.
